There is a flower, a little flower With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour, And weathers every sky.

Yet nightly pitch my moving tent, a day's march nearer home.

When evening closes Nature's eye, The glow-worm lights her little spark To captivate her favorite fly And tempt the rover through the dark.

Hymns should have unity, graduation and mutual dependence in the thoughts, a conscious progress, a sense of completeness and be easily understood.

There is a calm for those who weep, A rest for weary pilgrims found, They softly lie and sweetly sleep Low in the ground.

Joys too exquisite to last, And yet more exquisite when past.

When to the cross I turn my eyes,And rest on Calvary,O Lamb of God, my sacrifice,I must remember Thee.